Lost And Found (English)

3 | Homecoming

The gravel driveway crunched beneath the tires as Pak Ahmad (the driver) brought the car to a smooth halt. Basheer, peering out the window, felt a pang of bittersweet nostalgia. Three years in Egypt had been a whirlwind, yet the sight of the sprawling mansion brought everything rushing back. The hibiscus hedge still blazed red, a vibrant barrier lining the path. Even the old papaya tree, battle-scarred from Ameena's childhood adventures, remained stubbornly in place. It was as if time itself had pressed pause on this corner of Malaysia, a comforting constant amidst the ever-changing world.

          Before he could even unclip his seatbelt, the carved wooden door creaked open. His heart leaped – there stood Bahiyah, his mother, a warm smile creasing the new lines etched on her face. It was a smile that held the weight of missed birthdays, video calls filled with longing, and a love that transcended distance.

           "Basheer!" she cried, rushing towards him. In a blink, he was enveloped in her embrace, the warm aroma of freshly cooked rendang daging and sambal belacan filling his senses. It seemed like his mother had just whipped them up – a comforting reminder of home. "We've missed you so much," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears.

           "I miss you too, Ummi!" He choked out, holding her close. The guilt that had gnawed at him for years intensified. He'd missed so much – birthdays, holidays, even the simple joy of shared meals. And on top of it all, he had missed Ramadan, Eid Mubarak with his family for three whole years.

            "Come, come inside," Bahiyah pulled back, wiping a stray tear. "I've been cooking all your favorites foods. You must be starving."

            A wave of warmth washed over him. "Rendang daging and sambal belacan?" he asked with a hopeful smile, these were the Malay names for his favorite spicy beef dish and shrimp paste condiment.

            "How did you guess?" she chuckled, her eyes twinkling. "I figured your fancy Egyptian food couldn't hold a candle to your Ummi's cooking."

            Basheer laughed, the sound echoing in the familiar foyer.  "Not a chance, Ummi."

            As they approached the dining room, two figures emerged from the living room. One was his sister, Ameena. No longer the little girl he remembered, she stood there, a young woman with a hesitant smile. A flowing abaya draped elegantly around her form. Gone were the days of childish clothing; this new style hinted at a blossoming maturity. Yet, a familiar glint of mischief still danced in her eyes, promising a reunion filled with laughter and shared stories.

            Beside Ameena stood a silent observer – his Aunty Salama. Her kind eyes, framed by laugh lines, crinkled at the corners as she watched the heartwarming scene of her nephew's return, a gentle smile gracing her lips.

            Ameena threw her arms around her brother, burying her face in his shirt. "You promised you wouldn't leave for so long," she mumbled, her voice thick with emotion.

            He wrapped his arms around her tightly, the burden of his absence a heavy weight in his chest. "I know, Meena," he whispered. "I missed you both terribly. But listen, I'm back now, for good this time."

            His mother's gentle voice cut through the moment. "Dinner first, everyone," she said softly. "Before it gets cold."

           "Okay, Umi," he replied, stepping back but keeping a comforting arm around each of their shoulders. They moved towards the dining room, a comfortable silence settling between them. Only the quiet murmur of shared memories broke the peaceful lull.